15. The Queen’s King

Chapter 15

The Queen’s King

S ebastian opened the front door to their house for his queen. Sylvia stormed in without breaking her stride. Sebastian followed, shutting the door. He clutched his chest where he had been stabbed earlier in the evening. He winced with every step. Though the wound had stopped bleeding, it was still fresh and painful. His black shirt was damp as it soaked up blood. He entered the living room. He carefully sat on the black, leather Chesterfield sofa. Every movement sent a sharp pain through his body.

“There’s still something in there,” Sebastian said. “We need to get it out.”

He removed his shirt to reveal a seeping wound on his chest where he was struck earlier in the night.

Sylvia’s face twisted in shock; her mouth gaped open in a silent scream and her eyes reflected pure horror. “Get me a first aid kit,” she commanded of the ghouls.

They were waiting in the hallway for their masters to return.

“Go. Now!” she commanded.

One scrambled upstairs to do as instructed .

Sylvia knelt in front of Sebastian. “You!” She pointed to another one. “Go get me a towel. A damp one.”

The ghoul rushed into the kitchen and returned with a wet towel. Sylvia snatched it from his hand and pressed it against the wound.

“Are you okay, my love?” She turned her attention back to her king.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I think he got close. Thankfully, it hit my rib. We need to get the piece out before it works its way inward.”

“First aid. Now!” she shouted once more. “Unless you want to lose your head!”

“My dear, they’ll bring it. Don’t worry,” Sebastian said.

Sylvia took his hand and kissed it. She fixated on Sebastian’s dark brown eyes. “My love, I couldn’t bear a single day without you. When he stabbed you, I thought you were done for. I would have destroyed him and everyone else in this town if I lost you.”

Sebastian leaned forward. He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it back behind her ear. “I couldn’t ask for anything less. I wouldn’t demand anything more. That’s my good girl.”

She smiled at him. He leaned back against the couch, draping his left arm across the top of the couch.

The ghoul hurried down the stairs, but was light-footed. He made the minimum amount of noise moving into the living room. He bowed his head and presented Sylvia with the first aid kit. She took it without acknowledging the ghoul.

“Leave us,” Sebastian said. “All of you.”

The ghouls went into the kitchen, opened the basement door, and went downstairs.

Sylvia removed a pair of tweezers from the kit. “This may hurt.”

“Coming from you, it’ll be bliss,” Sebastian said.

Sylvia smiled and plunged the tweezers into his chest. He screamed in agony as the metal pushed deeper. He gripped the fine leather on the top of the couch with one hand and the side with the other. His fingers dug into the leather. He gritted his teeth, wanting to extend his fangs in anger. The pain was intolerable as she probed for the stray wooden shard.

“I haven’t found it yet,” Sylvia said.

“Keep going,” he growled as he arched his neck back. His body tensed.

“Does this make us even, my love?” Sylvia asked.

The memory of their first encounter seized Sebastian’s mind, slipping him back to that place so many years ago.

The door to his French tavern flung open, and a bloodied woman stood at the entrance. Sebastian stood by the bar, holding a broom. Lanterns hung on thick wooden pillars dimly lit the room. A few strands of her strawberry blonde hair draped over her desperation filled face. Blood dripped from her mouth. A bloody wound stood out on her chest. The two creatures of the night locked eyes.

“Please,” she begged.

Sebastian motioned with his head to an area behind the bar. She shut the door behind her and ran. She turned the corner and descended a set of stairs to the cellar below. Sebastian rested the broom against a table and went to the lanterns. One by one, he opened the metal and glass door to blow out the candles.

“She went in here,” he heard through a window outside.

The door flung open, and the mob consisting of a priest, a farmer, and a man wearing a black coat spilled in. They all held crucifixes. The priest was armed with a wooden stake, and the man in the black coat was armed with a pistol.

“Where is she?” the man in the coat asked.

“Where is who ?” Sebastian asked.

“The woman who came through here. Where is she?” he asked again.

Sebastian motioned around the empty tavern. The patrons had long since left. The chairs were placed on top of the tables .

“No one else is in this room,” he answered. “I’ve been cleaning up for the night. It’s only me.”

“She’s not here,” the priest said as he retreated through the door. “She must have gone down the street.”

The farmer followed behind.

The man in the black coat examined the room. He moved to the bar. Sebastian placed a hand on the stool behind him, ready to wield it as a weapon if he got too close. The man in the black coat stopped. Sebastian relinquished the stool.

He turned to Sebastian. “You didn’t see anyone come this way?”

“Can’t say I did,” he replied.

“It’s illegal to obstruct the affairs of the Holy Roman Emperor. I’ll ask again, where is she?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

The man in the black coat gave one last examination and then headed for the door. He stopped as if something caught his eye. He bent down. Sebastian inhaled sharply as he discovered what caught the man’s attention. He held his breath. On the hardwood floor was a solitary drop—a drop of her blood. The man in black ran a finger through it, raising his finger closer to his face to further examine it.

Sebastian’s heart thumped in his chest. He glanced over to the cellar entrance. His best chance was to grab the broom handle and fend him off to protect her.

The man in the black coat showed Sebastian the blood on his finger. “Rough night?”

Thoughts raced through Sebastian’s mind. Thoughts of how to justify a single drop of blood on the floor of his tavern. Anything. Anything plausible.

“Yeah. Some rowdy men came in here. They had a little too much to drink and got into a fight. One of them punched the other in the face. He must have gotten a bloody nose,” Sebastian answered. He gulped.

The man in the black coat stood. He wiped his finger across the top of a table. “Well, if you see anything unusual, stay inside for your own safety. There is a vampire on the loose.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Sebastian said.

As the man in the black duster opened the door, a cold gust of wind swept through the room. He vanished into the darkness of night; the sound of his fading footsteps filled the air. Sebastian shut the door, the click of the lock echoing in the silence. He breathed a sigh of relief, but the tension still lingered in the air. He knew he had one more nocturnal visitor to confront before the night was over.

Sebastian carefully lowered the only remaining lantern, its soft light guiding him as he moved behind the bar. Sebastian swiftly grabbed a bucket of water, a well-worn rag, and a small, wooden box from a shelf. He then descended the creaky steps to the dimly lit cellar.

A musty scent filled the air. The cold dampness against the dirt flooring. The darkness concealed its secrets, only illuminated by the lantern Sebastian carried. Wine and beer barrels provided excellent hiding spots for the woman now lurking in his cellar. The stairs creaked with every step.

Sebastian stopped at the base of the stairs. His eyes followed the lantern light as he played an unknowing game of hide-and-seek. There was movement off to his left, her strawberry blonde hair shining in the gleaming light. He moved around the barrels.

She cowered in the corner like an animal ready to strike. The full intensity of the lamp light bathed her in an orangish-yellow glow. Her fangs were elongated, and her chin was painted with dried blood. Sebastian wasn’t intimidated by her aggressive display.

“Do you not fear me?” she asked.

He moved toward her.

“Stay back,” she growled. “I’ll tear you to shreds.”

He stopped and peered into her eyes. “If you were a real threat to me, you wouldn’t have begged so politely to enter my tavern. No. Not you. You look like a woman who doesn’t ask, but takes. I would have already been your next victim if not for your wound. Correct? ”

Sylvia nodded. She winced, retreating further into the corner. She steadied herself against the wall with one hand and grabbed the left side of her chest with the other. Blood seeped from her chest wound. Her breathing labored.

“I can help you. Will you let me?” he asked as he presented the bucket and rag.

Her fangs retreated. “I’ll allow you to help me.”

Sebastian moved closer. “I take it you were hit by a bullet. I’m going to guess . . . is it silver?”

Her sapphire eyes focused on Sebastian with a skeptical sense of trust.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“It was a bullet. I don’t know what it’s made of, but your guess might be correct.”

“Please, sit.” He motioned to a barrel standing upright.

She climbed on top of it.

“My name is Sebastian. Sebastian Savino. I’m the owner of this tavern.”

“Sylvia. Countess Sylvia Dubois.”

“Nice to meet you, Sylvia. Or do you prefer Countess?” Sebastian dropped the rag into the bucket, soaking up the water.

“I demand my subjects call me Countess, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

Sebastian smiled. “Well, Sylvia, I need you to pull back your dress collar for me. Don’t worry. I only need to see the wound.”

She pulled on the U-shape collar of her crimson-colored dress. Her partially bare chest was covered in blood from her wound. Sebastian sloshed the rag around, wrung it out, and wiped her chest. Delicate swipes as to not press on the wound and hurt her. He helped pull back her collar, but respected her modesty. He wiped under the collar, soaking up as much of the blood as possible.

He dunked the rag once more, picked it up, and wrung out the excess water. He pressed the wet rag against her wound.

“Hold the rag there,” he commanded .

She did as instructed, never taking her eyes off him.

“You don’t fear me?” Sylvia asked.

“No,” he replied as he opened his small box.

He removed a steel instrument almost as long as his forearm. It had a narrow point on one end and two finger loops and a screw on the other. He sloshed the narrow point in the bucket.

“Do you know how to remove it?”

“I run a tavern. Taverns can get rowdy. You’re not the first one I’ve done this for. This is going to hurt. Are you ready?”

She nodded.

“You can squeeze my arm if the pain is too much,” Sebastian offered.

“I can tolerate a lot of pain,” Sylvia responded as she removed the rag.

“The offer still stands.” He brought the instrument up to the wound. He moved to extract the bullet.

“Wait!” Sylvia shouted to stop him from proceeding. “Do I need to ask if it’s made of wood?”

Sebastian chuckled. “Do you think I’d go through all of this trouble only to harm you?”

She focused on his brown eyes and didn’t answer.

“It’s not.”

Sylvia licked her lips and wrapped her hands around his muscular forearms. Her fingers dug into the middle of his arm. The pressure of her fingertips intensified as he moved the instrument closer.

“Ready,” she said.

He stabbed the instrument into her wound. She grimaced, but never yelled or whimpered. Her fingers dug deeper, finding the soft spot between his two forearm bones. Her grip was excruciating, much stronger than she appeared, but he never relented. He twisted the screw, turning and turning to drive the screw deeper into her chest. She dug her fingers deeper with every turn. He smiled the harder she dug.

Sylvia gritted her teeth, still silent and not yielding to the pain.

“You’re doing great,” Sebastian said. “Almost there.”

He turned and twisted until the screw found the target. He gave it a few more turns to dig into the silver ball. He pulled out the extractor, a silver ball now attached to the end.

Sylvia relaxed her grip and her teeth. She placed the rag on the wound. “Thank you,” she said through her labored breaths. She glared into his eyes, hers exhausted and red from the pain. “Why did you do this for me?”

Sebastian put the instrument back in the box. “Years ago, I was strolling through the city at night with my mother. We were followed. She tried not to panic as to not panic me. She hurried our pace, but a man stalked us. He was going to attack my mother when a creature of the night struck first. Its face was cloaked in shadows. I only knew what it was—a vampire. It saved us that night. I never found it again. As soon as I looked upon you and your wound, I knew what you were. It’s the least I could do to return the favor.”

“It’s a good thing that vampire saved you.”

“Was it you?”

“No. There are more of us.”

“Then consider my debt to the vampires repaid. Let’s see your wound.”

Sylvia removed the rag. The seeping stopped, and the wound healed over.

“You’ll be as good as new in no time,” Sebastian said.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I mean it. You’re welcome here anytime. If you get in trouble. If you need a place to hide. If you need a place to feed. You’re always welcome here.”

Sylvia was silent. Her mouth agape and eyes watered over. “No one has ever shown me this kindness before.”

Sebastian matched his eyes to hers. His heart pulsated as he lost himself in her sapphire blue eyes. “You’ll always find kindness here. I promise you.”

“I think I found it,” Sylvia shouted with glee. “I hit something. I have it. Ready?”

Sebastian gritted his teeth and nodded. Sylvia pulled out the tweezers, holding a wooden shard at the end. She placed the splinter on an end table.

Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief as his body relaxed. He covered up the wound with the damp towel. He gazed into her sapphire eyes. “I think this makes us even.”

Sylvia smiled. “Let me see your wound.”

He removed the towel. The wound healed over. She took the towel from his hand and carefully wiped away any blood with soft, gentle strokes. She fixated on his bare chest.

“Shall we go over and finish the job? I want nothing more than to destroy him for what he did to you.”

“No,” Sebastian said. He caressed her face, guiding her hair behind her shoulder with his fingers. “Let them wallow for a few days. Have the ghouls watch their movements. They’ll panic. Get sloppy. Then we can strike.”

Sylvia’s soft lips kissed his washboard abs. Gentle, teasing kisses at first, followed by intense presses of desire. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His body and soul lit a flame with every tease of her sensual journey. Her lips caressed every contour of his chiseled stomach as she worked her way toward his neck.

“We’re so close,” Sylvia said.

Her lips brushed against his chest. The warmth of her breath heralded the imminent arrival of her teasing butterfly kisses. Small pecks followed by lingering warmth which sent pleasure coursing through his body. Sebastian savored every moment of her sensual journey.

She stood and placed her knees on both sides of his waist, digging into the leather and straddling him. Her journey continued upward as she followed an invisible path of pleasure from his collarbone to his neck. She mimicked the sensual act of their vampire embrace years ago—kissing, nibbling, caressing his neck. She stopped, pulling away to let her playful tease linger. He wanted nothing more than for her to finish this journey of passion and ecstasy.

“Can you feel it?” she whispered into his ear. Her warm breath intensified his longing and desire.

Sylvia was a tease, and Sebastian loved every minute of it.

“Yes,” he whispered back.

“Soon, my love, we’ll have our prize.”

He worked his hands under her shirt. His fingers traced the contours of her back. She arched her back slightly, closing her eyes and biting her lip. His fingers danced in circles on her back as they wrote in the dark language of love. She opened her eyes. Their eyes locked together in a fiery dance of passion and anticipation. Their breathing synchronized.

Sylvia let the gaze linger, leaving Sebastian in blissful torment.

“And we shall rule together for all of time,” he growled. “For our new empire.”

Sylvia smiled a devilish grin. “For our new empire,” she growled back.

They completed their journey, their two lips joining together in a passionate union. Their souls and bodies unified under a shared desire for each other. An expression of their deep desire. Their deep passion. Their deep love.

Sebastian lost track of all time. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours. All he knew was bliss.